


Tonight's Gonna Be A Good, Good Night (May 2012)

by escritoireazul



Series: Tied Up in Strings [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Community: glee_kink_meme, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hand Jobs, Interracial Relationship, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercedes and Sam get up to a little good old parking lot hooking up fun at Prom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight's Gonna Be A Good, Good Night (May 2012)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: [This prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/6968.html?thread=13054008#t13054008) on the glee_kink_meme for Mercedes/Sam, backseat, and dirty talk. I sort of failed at the backseat part.

_Let's paint the town  
We'll shut it down.  
Let's burn the roof  
and then we'll do it again._  
"I Gotta Feeling" The Black Eyed Peas

Mercedes curls her fingers into Sam’s shirt and tugs him down. He bends willingly, sure she’s going to straighten his collar or fix his hair, but instead she brushes her lips along his cheek, kissing her way to his ear. She nips at his earlobe, a sharp bite that makes him shudder and thrust against her thigh.

Her breath is hot against his ear when she laughs, and when she presses closer to whisper, “I want you inside me.”

All his blood rushes south so fast his vision goes a little blurry, and he sucks in air fast. She laughs again and pats his cheek. “Breathe slower, boy. You’re no use to me if you hyperventilate.”

Around them, Prom rages. The gym sort of looks like a black and silver glitter bomb went off in it, spewing weird confetti everywhere -- the theme is “Night in the City” and there are, like, skyscrapers and storefronts and other things he didn’t know came in confetti -- but the dj is decent and they’ve all been on the dance floor most of the night, swapping partners as easy as anything.

But officially, this is date night for Sam and Mercedes, so she picked him up, and he slipped the corsage onto her wrist, and they held hands at dinner, laughing with the rest of the group, Mercedes’ fingers tickling against his palm.

And now, she slips her fingers between the buttons of his shirt, her nails scraping along his stomach, and he has never been so glad he skipped wearing an undershirt like some of the other guys did.

“Come with me,” she orders, smirking, and takes his hand. He would follow her anywhere, to the unexplored reaches of outer space and beyond. Sam squeezes her fingers and falls into step next to her.

He can see the others around them in snapshots as they work their way across the room. Santana’s hair swinging as Brittany spins her out and then back in a slick, smooth move that ends with their bodies pressed together and Santana’s head tipped back in a laugh; Matt, in town for a long weekend, and Mike having their own little dance off while Tina cheers them on, and even though Mike’s totally going to win, Matt’s throwing all his heart into his moves, and their smiles are so big Sam can practically feel their happiness; near them, Kurt and Blaine are dancing, Blaine’s movements dramatic and kind of ridiculous and a lot of fun; Quinn’s on Artie’s lap while he dances them around in his wheelchair, Rachel swinging her hips in front of them, Finn sort of rocking back and forth behind her, his arms up in this really awkward move.

Mercedes turns them suddenly, angling toward the corner. It takes Sam a second to figure out where she’s going, but then he realizes Lauren and Puck are in the shadows. They’re just kissing, but Sam likes watching, and he’s seen kissing as foreplay so many times over the past couple months that his body, still worked up from Mercedes, reacts immediately. He stumbles into Mercedes, and in that second their bodies are pressed together, she grinds her ass into him, making him groan.

She laughs, squeezes his hand, and then slips in closer to Lauren and Puck, reaching up to tug lightly on Lauren’s hair. (Tina’s the one who taught them all about sexual hair pulling. Sam’s been growing out his hair ever since, because damn, that shit feels good.)

Lauren breaks away from Puck with a groan, twisting away from Mercedes, which just makes her pull more. Sam puts his hands on Mercedes’ shoulders, pressing in close and to hell with anyone who’s watching.

“Give me your keys, Puckerman.” Mercedes holds out her free hand, palm up. Automatically he reaches into his pocket, but then he frowns.

“You drove, M.”

“Yeah, but my backseat is tiny.”

Puck raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Get on it,” he says, handing over his keys then holding up his fist first to Mercedes, who actually untangles her hand from Lauren’s hair to tap her knuckles against his, and then to Sam, who reaches over Mercedes’ shoulder to bump fists with him just so he can feel Mercedes rock her hips back against him again.

“Condoms, lube, and towels in the glove box,” Lauren says, practical as ever, even though she's breathing hard. Her hair is mussed, her lipstick gone, and her eyes sparkle as she watches them. Puck slings an arm across her shoulders, and she leans into him a little.

“Don’t the condoms get too hot in there?” Mercedes asks, because that is one of the things they’ve been warned about by Ms. Holliday.

“Stocked it tonight,” Lauren grins, “just in case.”

Puck stares at her a second, and turns on Mercedes. “Babe, I’m gonna need my keys back now.”

She cackles with laughter and jingles them at him, jerking them out of the way at the last second when he tries to snatch them from her. “Sorry, _babe_ , no room in the truck for you.”

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman.” He’s smiling too hard to really mean it, and when Lauren leans in to whisper something, he laughs. “Fine. Go enjoy my hard work. I washed and waxed it special for tonight.”

All three of them flick their eyes down to his crotch and then back up to his face. Puck shakes his head. Sam’s the first one to start snickering, because _unplanned_ sexual innuendo is the last thing he expects from Puck, but Mercedes and Lauren join in pretty fast.

Puck starts to say something, and this shit is going to be hilarious, but Lauren grabs the back of his neck and shuts him up with a kiss. Mercedes grins, reaches out to tug her hair one more time, and takes Sam’s hand again.

This time, they make it outside. Puck’s truck is parked toward the back of the lot, surrounded by the rest of their vehicles. They’re pretty far from the nearest streetlight, but when they’re settled on the bench seat, the doors shut, Sam still feels a little exposed.

“We could get Blaine’s keys,” he says. Blaine’s house is big and his parents out of town a lot, so instead of grabbing hotel rooms like most of the rest of the senior class, they decided to make the drive out there instead. Except as good as Mercedes feels against him, he’s regretting that choice now. The room with the bed for them is really far away.

“I’m not done dancing.” She scoots closer still, practically in his lap, and he wraps his arms around her.

“Just couldn’t keep your hands off me, could you?” While she giggles, he kisses her temple, her jaw, and the corner of her mouth. She sparkles even in the darkness, and as much as he wants sex, as hard as he is still, he also loves her like this, giddy and shiny and so very happy. “Lor lrrtok.” He whispers it into her skin.

“You big geek,” she says fondly, cups his face in her hands, and kisses him. Her mouth is soft against his, but she controls the kiss, teasing his lips open and sweeping her tongue into his mouth. Her hands clutch at his face, and her breasts press against him. She sucks his lower lip into her mouth, drags her teeth across it, light at first and then with more pressure.

He’s hard and aching when she moves to his throat, kissing her way down to the spot that makes him thrust against her when she nips at it. He runs his hands down her sides to her hips and tugs her closer still until she’s straddling his thigh. At that angle, he can drop his head and kiss the rise of her breasts, her skin so smooth.

“Mm, Sam.” The hitch in her breath encourages him to slip one hand inside her dress until he can run a thumb across her nipple. She reaches between them and palms his dick, grinding down on his thigh. It feels so good even through layers of fabric, and he thrusts up into her hand. “Little impatient?”

He buries his face against her breasts, working his kisses along her cleavage. Her dress fits close, but he manages to work her free of it until he can take her nipple into his mouth.

Mercedes grabs a handful of his hair, holding him to her. “Use your teeth a little,” she demands, her voice throaty and low. He closes his teeth on her nipple, tugging on it gently, and is reward by her squirming against his thigh. He bites her harder, and her hand jerks, stuttering across his dick.

He surges up against her, and for a moment they are nothing but raw skin and need. Sam nudges Mercedes off his leg and onto the seat, then twists his body until he’s half in the passenger floorboard. It isn’t comfortable at all, but the look on Mercedes’ face when he catches the bottom of her skirt and works it up her legs, baring her calves and her thighs and finally leaves the material pooled around her waist, makes the pain worth it.

She moans when he kisses the inside of her thigh right above her knee, lies back and pushes her hips toward him so he can pull down her underwear. He wants to take it slow, work her up as much as she’s gotten to him, but she reaches for his hair again, pulling his face down, and he wants to hear her, wants to make her feel as good as he can.

So he slides his hands up her thighs, pushing her legs farther apart, and tries to angle his body into the most comfortable position he can get in the truck. He uses his thumbs to hold her open and puts his mouth to her, warm kisses that just brush her clit.

Mercedes groans and twists her fingers in his hair. “More tongue.” Her body shakes, but her voice is strong, and is the best thing he’s ever heard. He licks lightly at her warm, wet skin, teasing around her clit without touching it. She tugs hard on his hair. “You fucking tease, you know what I want.”

“Tongue,” he mumbles against her. It’s not all that legible, but she laughs, her body jerking a little with it, and then thrusts her hips up and pushes his head down.

“Tongue on my clit, ass.” His shoulders press harder against her legs with his laugh, but he focuses there, tonguing around it in slow circles and licking across it every few seconds. She groans low in her throat, and he grins.

Her hands clench in his hair and release, clench and release, in time with the movements of his tongue. She’s twisting beneath him, and he struggles to push his body against her in a way that doesn’t interrupt what he’s doing with his mouth.

“I want you inside me.” He can’t help it, he grinds against the seat a little, but he slips two fingers into her, teasing them in and out, slowly at first, until she thrusts her hips against him, driving him inside. He curls his fingers forward, searching for that spot he knows she likes. She’s slick and warm and tight on his fingers, and his dick throbs.

Sam lifts his head, his mouth and tongue slick with her. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice low so it won’t shake. His cheeks heat, and he’s glad for the shadows that probably hide his blush. Mercedes loves dirty talk, and he wants to give her everything, but he’s not always sure about what to say.

She runs her fingers through his hair, smoothing some of the tangles she put there. “You like that?” she murmurs. “It’s all because of you.” He puts his tongue to her again while she talks, time each slow stroke across her clit to match the thrust of his fingers inside. “Grinding you on the dance floor, the way you touch me, and that _mouth_ of yours. God, Sam.” Her voice catches. “Faster. Fuck me harder.”

He adds a third finger and picks up the pace, so intent on what he’s doing that her words become a low background sound of appreciation, punctuated by sharp little tugs on his hair and whimpers. Eventually all of that fades to just his name, chanted over and over again while she bucks against his face and clenches around his fingers.

Sam’s jaw aches, his spine could snap at any second, and he can’t feel his tongue, but the noises she makes are better than any of his pain. Her body stiffens, her hips pushed up, and then she’s coming, pulling his hair hard and spitting out his name with every breath. He works his tongue over her, curling designs over her clit, until she finally drops her body against the bench seat again.

He nearly falls on top of her the first time he tries to get up, his legs cramped from the awkward way he fit them into the floorboard, but the second time he makes it. His mouth is wet with her and feels swollen; his fingers are slick as he rubs them together; and his dick is uncomfortably hard, throbbing with every fast beat of his heart.

Mercedes slowly pushes herself upright. He waits until he knows she’s watching him before he licks his fingers clean, sucking them into his mouth one at a time and swirling his tongue around them.

She grabs his wrist, pulls his hand over, and sucks one damp finger into her mouth. She drags her teeth along it, taking it all the way inside so that her tongue tickles the space between his fingers, and when she pulls back, she releases it with a little pop.

He’s pretty sure she grins at him, but he can’t focus real well at the moment.

“You want to come?” she asks, and he nods hard, his hair flopping into his face. She pushes at him, arranging him to her liking, and then reaches for his pants, undoing his belt and sliding the zipper down. He stops her just long enough to push his pants and boxers down to his ankles -- no way he wants to explain to his mom any weird stains when she takes it to be dry cleaned -- and leans back, letting her have her way. “You want the lube?”

Sam’s got a better idea. He grabs her hand instead, and licks her palm, swirling his tongue along it again and again, getting it as wet as he can. She takes her hand back and does the same, so that when she fists her hand around him, she’s wet with both of them.

It doesn’t take long at all, not after being buried between her legs, not after hearing all those noises she makes, and not with her watching him so intently. He keeps his eyes open as much as he can so he can see her face, but her hand moves up and down, her palm so slick, and there’s already precome at his tip, and then he’s thrusting up and thrusting up and thrusting up, guttural noises tearing out of his chest.

Mercedes tilts her head close to his. “Come for me,” she says and bites his earlobe. There’s no stopping Sam then, he grabs her thigh with one hand and comes so hard his vision goes dim.

For awhile, all he can do is slump against her and suck in air. Eventually, Mercedes kisses the corner of his mouth and extracts herself from him. She grabs one of the little hand towels from the glove box and together they clean up. Once they’re presentable -- Mercedes manages to work the tangles out of his hair, but her hair definitely looks messed up in the back and no matter what she does, she can’t get it right again. She doesn’t try for very long, either -- Mercedes takes his hand, and they head back inside to the dance.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been gone, but when they return Puck’s keys, Puck smirks and gives them another fist bump. Santana, dancing with him, eyes them up and down, and her grin is extra wicked.

Lauren and Mike are dancing with Finn, one on either side of them, their hands on his hips while they try to smooth his lumbering motions. Tina and Brittany spin and spin together, their skirts whirling out around their bodies. Quinn and Rachel are nowhere to be seen, and Sam hopes they’re having fun together, wherever they’ve disappeared to. Kurt and Artie are dancing together, while Blaine bounces around them.

An arm slings across Sam’s shoulders, and Matt reaches around him to offer Mercedes a glass of punch. She thanks him with a quick kiss. “Some of us are talking about heading out,” Matt says, pitching his voice so he can be heard beneath the music.

Sam’s definitely ready for that, but Mercedes shakes her head. “Not yet! We haven’t had enough Gaga yet, and I need to dance with my boy some more.” She gulps some of the punch, shoves the glass at Sam, and hits the dance floor, aiming straight for Kurt.

“Good night?” Matt asks, squeezing Sam’s shoulders a little.

It’s been a hell of a night, and they haven’t even started the after party yet. It’s good to see everyone happy. They’ve all been stressed lately, and though they try not to take it out on each other, it’s hard not to lash out at the ones they trust most. Graduation looms, and with it comes worry about what the hell they’ll do when they’re spread so far apart.

He doesn’t say anything about that, because Matt’s been dealing with that shit since this all began, and Sam doesn’t want to think about anything that might bring them down anyway. Instead he nods and grins, finishes Mercedes’ punch, and together he and Matt hit the dance floor to join their friends.


End file.
